Freedom
by SisterGrimmErin
Summary: After thousands of betrayals, batterings and violations, and an endless, lonely, painful existence, is it possible to fall in love?


Freedom

Once she'd had it. Once she'd run free with her brother, her best friend in the sunlight, finally free of her father, and laughed and laughed as he showed her the sunset inside a cloud. Then, after the great Titan war, he'd asked to marry her.

She'd refused and fled and fled to the ends of the Earth. She begged her adoptive father Okeanos for help, but he'd looked at her and said "I'm so sorry, daughter-of-my-heart." The pity in his eyes had undone her. She'd screamed and kept running. None of her family saw her for three hundred years.

She'd been so lonely, so cold. One day a peacock had come up to her, starving and wanting food. She gave it some, welcoming it into her hut.

Then it had Zeus' eyes.

She'd merely surrendered after the first screams. She'd known all along he'd find her. But she hadn't, she hadn't known it would hurt so much, that she could feel so empty...

On her wedding day she'd not wept, not laughed. Her face was a stone. She'd been unforgiving, cold as a statue. He controlled her body, her mind on occasion, her happiness. But the one thing Zeus had never been able to steal was her heart. He'd remained faithful for a hundred years. One day he'd shouted at her, "Will you not love me?"

She'd merely looked at him and said, "Not when my husband does not know what love is. Not when he chains me."

He'd been so very angry. He'd hurt her. Bruises and scars made a network across her broken soul...

But she was the Queen of Heaven. Always, always she could remember the stars and how they were free and cold, far away from the Earth...

The stars, the stars that criss-crossed her heavens. Zeus might have the earthly sky, but she could hide among them, sometimes. But only sometimes.

She'd borne him two sons and two daughters.

The sons she'd feared. Ares had his father's temperament, but was worse at hiding it. He'd hurt her at birth, pounding on her breast. She'd tried so hard to love him.

She'd thrown Hephaestus because he had what his father's soul looked like... and then he'd never forgiven her, for his crippled and unwhole self. He created such beauty, such wonder, and she could never see it, never show him how much it mattered to her. She begged for entrance to his workshop on the day of his birth, year after year. But she never received it, and never blamed him. The only son she'd ever love, not that he'd ever believe her...

Demeter, her sister, once her friend, had borne Persephone. Her great secret, the arrangement of her stepdaughter, her niece's marriage to Hades. She'd watched Demeter's grief and it had broken her heart. But her greatest regret was Hades' imprisonment of Persephone. Such a vital child she'd been... so lovely. She'd pretended she was her daughter... now the child was just like her.

Her daughter Nemesis was was all the worst parts of her. To look upon that awfully lovely face was to look in an unflattering mirror. And Nemesis knew it and hated it. Hera's ability to love had been all but snatched away.

Hebe. A feckless child, but what could you expect from the goddess of youth? She gave her the apples, handed guardianship of her wedding gift over to her daughter. What a beautiful child... but she'd forgotten her mother eventually, just as her father had. Zeus had not come to her, given her a child in thousands of years... and then she'd married Hercules. Hera had given consent, despite all the times she'd known the hero would betray her daughter.

Oh yes, Hercules. She'd been the villain of that tale, but by then she'd lived in a web of lies and regret, hatred and memories and pain. Could anyone imagine why she hated that boy so much? It was because of his mother... she'd slept with a form of her husband, betrayed him. And her husband had stayed with her, comforted her and forgiven her. Loved her. The love in that cottage had twisted her heart. Hercules had been happy. Had a childhood. A regular mortal home. Comfort.

Oh, how Hera had wanted to be a mortal.

But she couldn't, so she cursed him... and killed him, even though he became immortal... because he had been like his father after all, never loving his lovers, using them on his quests, abandoning like that poor Hesperide and killing his family... of course he blamed her, but that had been merely wine, nothing divine at all. Of course he regretted it. Who wouldn't? But maybe he knew a trace of her pain, of her regret. He'd saved her from the giant, after all.

And before that there had been Leto. Oh, she'd been so jealous of the children in her womb. Beautiful. The kindest of the gods, the twins of Delos. Apollo, who was eternally in love with love and wept when his sons died. Artemis had been the worst, though. Jealousy snaked her when she saw that child had had all she ever wanted- freedom, friends forever, to protect, even to love and be loved, despite the fact that he died, betraying her. Oh yes... these other gods, they didn't know how lucky they were to be able to love, not even Aphrodite. So she tried to make them not be born, but her heart hadn't been in it. Such beauty should exist to bless mortals, because she herself was no blessing...

Io had been an almost-friend, a priestess. But then Zeus had ruined the friendship, as he'd ruined everything else that was good, made her all but forget her happy childhood among the waves. When her son had been born, she couldn't stand it, couldn't. She called in a debt with Argus, but... oh, then they'd joined her in the stars, forever mocking her. Just as Zeus had intended it.

Dionsyus, Bacchus... the twice-born. She shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have cursed his mother. But oh, he'd been a mortal. He'd had happiness. He had a wife, who adored him. He saved her. He loved her... and she loved him. Love, yes, all she'd never had... Dionsyus and Adriane.

Jealousy, jealousy. Was that any excuse?

Athena was her friend, for a while. She'd needed a mother, that child. And she raised her, pretended she was her daughter. But then she grew alone, grew apart. Athena needed no one, of course. Did she know she sent Odysseus, to grant her daughter love despite her oath? To give her children? Probably not...

Then she'd bound Zeus. He'd punished her for that severely. Had it been worth it? He'd never trusted her again, never trusted Poseidon either. But when it was worst, Hera took refuge in the sea, and the Lord of Heaven could not reach her there. But Poseidon could not hide her forever... she'd always loved that brother, kind as he was. But no one could hide from Zeus once he'd set his eye on her. She did after all belong to him... the goddess of marriage twisted her hated wedding ring.

Teresias, the one who'd been male and female, said women enjoyed sex more. She'd been furious, blinding him... she'd only ever known rape and pain, virgin anew every year. Imagine breaking and breaking every year when you must bathe in the stream of your birth... Zeus always enjoyed that day... Honestly! Then Zeus had given him prophecy. Poseidon was right, he would have been a good god of theater.

Ah yes, theater. The Muses. They'd been such beautiful girls, she couldn't bear to hurt them. Gifted with song, careless as the wind. Unhurt, even by her. Oh, how she'd wanted to hold them, pretend they were hers, like she'd done Athena.

Then there'd been Jason. _That_ had been a beautiful man. She hadn't dared come close, but he'd deserved her help, that hero. They'd left Hercules behind on her say-so. So happy, full of life. Why is that the thought of eventual death make them, the mortals, so alive? She'd sent Thetis and the Nereids, her once-adoptive sisters to help them. It had been so long. She'd forgotten what fun was like, after that, had not laughed again for a long while.

Thetis had eventually betrayed her, making a pact with Zeus. It had been the last straw, and she'd confronted her husband with her last vestige of bravery.

He'd brushed her off, humiliated her in front of all Olympus. Threatened her. All the gods were troubled. Their pity was almost welcome because she'd lost pride long ago. That war had torn everybody apart. She'd wished for its end long before its beginning. She didn't know why she'd participated in that contest, or offered Paris that. Perhaps it was her adoptive mother telling her, "You are the most beautiful of all the immortals, and someday they'll all know it." But Athena had still obeyed her. Perhaps that goddess loved her, a little bit. It had been comforting, for a while. She'd even seduced Zeus to aid Athena, in return... the one time she had control over him. She relished it. Perhaps women can have some power, after all...

She'd beat Artemis in battle, once. Her daughter Nemesis had been thrilled, of course. Battle gave her no joy. But at least it made people respect her. Love was long ago. Until now. Until Robert Valentine... she'd hidden from him. This man she would go to the ends of the earth to protect. Her true love, found three thousand years after her marriage.

She held the baby to her breast. She could not hold him long. But she could bless him, protect him with all her powers. She could even ask Artemis to hide Robert, dear Robert who would remain loyal to her. They were star-crossed, but she would never, ever betray him either. From now on, she was Bran's. And no rape, no violation of Zeus could take that away.

But oh, she could never, ever see him again.

She kissed her baby and wrote in elegant script upon his blanket, "My love, hold him close. I shall never love any but you. I love our son. Tell him not who I am, lest the wrath of Olympus befall him. Artemis shall protect thee both."

And she cried, cried and cried, as Hermes waited to take him away. Oh, how she cried.

"What is his name?" Hermes asked carefully. He'd been sworn to silence on the River Styx... hopefully it would be enough.

"Branson Kephalos Valentine."

"Why Kephalos?"

"He remained faithful to his wife, despite the lust of Eos."

Hermes nodded and wiped away his stepmother's tear. "He will be a hero."

"Oh Okeanos, I hope not."

The Queen of Heaven knew even then 'twas in vain.


End file.
